2/2
When she asks about Pete, Rodeo's lip curls in a slight grimace. It could be because of the subject, or it could be because of what she's doing to his leg. He wants to say no, wants to refuse to talk about it because he knows it won't do any good to explain. The damage is already done, and explanations and apologies can't fix any of the fucking myriad things he's broken. It makes him feel defiant and irritated to consider explaining himself to Lita, but if he spares a single moment of self-reflection he knows that it only pisses him off because he's aware of what a piece of shit she must think he is. Whether he likes it or not, he owes her an explanation, and he's already learned that pretending the bad parts of him don't exist won't work with her.
"Yeah, I'm... I'm real sorry about that," he says, and for what it's worth he sounds like he means it. "I was feelin' real rough, you know... Guilty and low-down and pissed off at the world. He ain't the only one I snapped on, I just..." Rodeo shakes his head, averting his eyes to look at the wall. "I'm not tryin' to make any excuses, alright? I know there ain't any excuse. It's just an explanation. I felt like shit and I took it out on him. Not sure if you picked up on it yet, mama, but I got a real hellacious temper. It don't take much to put me in the red."
Rodeo brings his eyes back, but he looks down at her hands as they work instead of directly at her. "I just... I don't know why these people are here. Why they're followin' me, when I bring... I ain't nothin' but trouble. You reckon any of this would have happened if it wasn't for me? If I just had the strength to crush them cats sooner, if I didn't give the Capitol reason to load 'em up with big guns to cut me down, fuck, if I didn't manage to convince all these folks they're better off out here with me, livin' the kind of life where they gotta wonder if their husbands and fathers and brothers are ever gonna live to see tomorrow. I know... I know I'm the problem." Rodeo brushes his thumb over one of the neat little stitches she's knotted, and he feels insane for the way it makes his heart ache to look at her handiwork. "And feelin' low-down like that, I came up on you two, and I thought... I thought you was flirtin'. I mean, I know you ain't the sweet talkin' type. I ain't forgotten just about the first thing you ever said to me was callin' me a stupid son of a bitch. I thought you was flirtin' with him, and I lost it, and I'm sorry. I know it ain't right. I know it ain't even my place to get mad if you was flirtin'. You're... I ain't... I got no right to that."